Held Hostage
by UrsineEnchantment
Summary: After inviting her boyfriend to spend the night for the first time, Makoto finds out that the popular 'spooning' isn't quite all it's cracked up to be... (Held hostage? In MY bed? It's more likely than you think.)


Moonlight shone through the window, bathing her walls in a divine silver glow. Dimly, she could make out the typical rhythm of traffic floating through the air from outside, the hustle and bustle of workers on night shifts or bored citizens seeking a night on the town. The light chatter of a tv was coming from one of her neighbors on the floor above. It was likely some sort of gameshow, judging by the occasional cheers or boos of a crowd.

They usually went silent two hours or so before she did, but the noise had started up about an hour ago. So they couldn't sleep either...

Exhaling slowly through her nose, she shifted her gaze from the digital clock on the nightstand, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling. If she squinted, she could make out a few faint lines where the coating had started to crack. It wasn't enough damage to be worth fixing right away, just enough of a deformity to give the otherwise blank whiteness some character. Hmm, how many were there? One, two, three...five, no, wait, she'd already counted that one. Where had she started again? Maybe she should work from the right and upwards, and...

Oh, forget it. This wasn't entertaining her in the slightest.

All she really wanted was to let her blurry eyes close, stretch out properly, and get some decent rest.

But that had proven an impossible task to accomplish this evening.

She wouldn't exactly consider letting Akira sleep over a _mistake._ They'd had a wonderful time earlier, and while he'd been hesitant to accept her offer at first (she'd had to assure him several times that her sister was working all night and that he wouldn't wake up handcuffed to a table or sent out in a body bag), he'd clearly been thrilled to finally spend the night with her. She'd been rather giddy herself, having her first sleepover in years and finally having some company for the night. She'd often wondered what it would be like for her apartment to not be so empty once darkness hit. She'd expected it to be warm, comforting.

She hadn't counted on how living so independently for so long had actually affected her...

It made her feel ungrateful, and a little cold-hearted, but she actually missed that emptiness now. The small couch seemed like the most welcoming of fantasies by this point...if she could have gotten away with moving, she would have ditched her own bed to escape into the living room an hour ago. If she did manage to sneak out of here, perhaps she could set an alarm on her phone, and wriggle back into place before he woke up...ah, but if he were to wake up and noticed she left...no, she couldn't hurt his feelings. She was just going to have to endure this _exceedingly long, irritating night,_ and then get some proper rest tomorrow when she had the apartment to herself (and possibly Sis) again. It was one night. She could tough it out if it meant making her boyfriend happy.

It wasn't exactly that she disliked getting physically close with him (he always had that comforting coffee smell, and he was so gentle, but still strong, and there was that fluffy hair, and-she was getting distracted), but sleeping was really a solitary activity, despite the fact that they were sharing her bed. There was room for both of them to get comfortable, so...why did he keep trying to _smother_ her?

His behaviour had been cute for the first twenty minutes or so...rather sweet actually...

Even after they'd gotten close and formed this relationship, Akira was never very vulnerable while he was awake. He'd gotten too used to staying quiet or being forced to deal with his problems alone, and even when he caved to her inquiries about whatever was bothering him, he never gave her the whole story, never allowed his emotions to spill out entirely. Whenever he admitted to feeling sad or lonely or missing her, he always tried to offset it with some sort of witty quip or turn things around to get her all flustered and giggly. While he was very affectionate, it was usually when he held the power of initiating. During the rare times she'd acted first, he'd been a very pleased recipient, of course, but...he never actually asked or even _implied_ that he wanted any kind of extra attention or contact.

So lying there, watching him wriggle closer any time she moved the slightest inch, snuggling against her and sighing in his sleep once she stilled, seeing his lips twitch into a smile when she stroked his back...she liked seeing this new side of him. The side that wasn't afraid to get a little clingy, who clearly wanted nothing more than to bask in her warmth. She had a strong feeling this behavior was due to a severe lack of comfort in this last year of his life (after all, spare Morgana, he was completely alone in the attic, and considering all that he'd been through...), and that did prick at her chest a little, so she'd been content to stay still and let him press into her side, hoping that she would eventually manage to doze off.

But then time had started to drag on, and she became more than a _little_ uncomfortable...

Not only had he wormed his way in so closely that her arm was nearly dangling off of the right side of the bed, but his face was pressed right into her neck, puffs of hot breath blazing against her skin. She might as well have been sleeping with a dragon. On top of that, his mouth had slipped open, and her shoulder was now soaked in a decently-sized spot of drool that had leaked through her pajama sleeve. Every so often she'd feel the patch re-wet, and a fresh shudder of revulsion would run up her spine.

She'd tried a couple of times to roll him back to his own side of the bed, very gently, but whenever she'd cleared a few inches of precious breathing room, he'd feel around, mumbling in his sleep, and before she could even get comfortable he was squirming back up against her, reaching out to wrap an arm around her midsection.

All those posts online where people gushed over how _wonderful_ it was to be the 'little spoon'? She was quite sure the majority of those people hadn't actually _experienced it._ That, or they were outright liars.

It wasn't comfortable in the _slightest._ Her legs were cramped up from where she'd been forced to curl up, she was so hot she was starting to sweat, and it was beginning to feel like Akira's vice-grip of an arm wrapped around her weighed as much as _an entire body._ She supposed she should be counting her blessings that he was at least a _quiet_ sleeper, only sighing or huffing every so often as he dreamed instead of snoring like some kind of monster. _That_ would have been the icing on the obnoxious-behavior cake.

Carefully using her free hand to stifle a yawn, she cast another bleary glance at him, trying to shift her head so that her roasted neck could catch a bit of cooler air.

If she wasn't so exhausted and mildly-frustrated, she might have smiled. But all she could manage was to stare at him, huffing under her breath.

Truthfully, she wanted to shove him off of the bed and onto the floor. And yet...he was _unfairly_ adorable. Curled up almost like a cat (could he...possibly have picked up this snuggly habit from spending so much time with Morgana?), his entire body pressed up to curve around her. He looked more content, more peaceful, than she'd ever seen him.

Probably because he felt _safe_ here.

There was no lonely attic, no reminders of his probation. No grating (if well-intended) meowing to boss him around. No Phantom Thief preparations to stress about.

Just a night in a quiet room, with someone he loved...someone who loved _him..._

Wasn't the 'big spoon' supposed to be the protective one? Somehow, she felt like she was the one protecting him.

Slowly, moving a few inches at a time, she managed to pry her other arm free from his grasp. Gently, she tucked it around him, rubbing his back in a slow rhythm as she closed her eyes, listening to his soft breathing.

She may not actually get any sleep tonight, but she could stay here with him. She could stay here and shield him from any loneliness, from any nightmares that may come. She could ensure that he was safe in her arms, that he could get some well-deserved rest and be vulnerable for one night without having to fear anything.

She wasn't being held hostage here by some dragon. No, she was the knight, the leader of the royal guard, and she was protecting her prince...


End file.
